


Yours

by Avocadoz



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Castration, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Post-Season/Series 08, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 08:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15263670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avocadoz/pseuds/Avocadoz
Summary: A small embarrassingly fluffy ficlet set post season 8. Jon and Theon deserves to feel safe and happy and warm.





	Yours

Theon woke to gentle fingers tracing through his curly hair, the warmth of Jon's body clinging to his side. A ray of sun hit his eye, and he squinted against the bright light. He had drifted to sleep on his stomach, and now the pillow under his face felt slightly wet.

Spring had washed in like a wave, advancing confidently with warmth and sunshine one day and retaliating the next. On some days new vivid tones of the weirwood leaves were bathed in tepid air that encouraged them gently, on others, the biting winds of winter gusted sharply, demanding a return to the bitterness of weeks before. But much like a wave, the spring refused to be stopped, it pushed into the day, banishing the cold to memory. 

A timid smile pulled at Theon's lips as he snuggled against the furs, shifting to his side and stretching his legs. Jon held his hand tightly. He wanted stay here all day long, kiss Jon until their lips were red and swollen, touch him until they were sweaty and gasping.

Jon rolled onto his back and turned his head to the side so that he could meet Theon's eyes, their hands resting on his belly. Theon captured Jon's slightly colder feet between his own to warm them up. 

"I'm sore" he whispered into Jon's ear. 

The memory from last night made his cheeks redden and his heart beat faster, his ass still a bit tender from the impact of Jon's cock. Jon draped a thigh over Theon's legs and nosed around his jawline.

"Are you alright?" He mumbled softly,  searching Theon's eyes. 

Theon smiled shyly. "Aye." He said. " I liked it. It felt good."

"It felt good for me too. So good." Jon grinned, nuzzling Theon's neck. "We're a good team, you and I. Even before. At least when we wanted to be."

Theon kissed his lips. "I don't know about that." He whispered. "Robb always had to keep us apart. And keep us together."

Jon's smile didn't falter, but Theon could feel his body stiffen at the mention of Robb. 

It still hurt, even after all this time.

Robb had left a gaping hole between them, a wound that may have closed, but still ached dimly.

"Do you remember that time when we got into a fight right in front of Lady Catelyn and her handmaids? You threw mutton stew in my face." Jon said, and Theon nodded, chuckling quietly at the memory.

The bed dipped when Jon crawled on top of him, laying down on Theon's body until they were pressed together from head to toe. Skin on skin, the touch sending sparks of heat up Theon's spine. Theon leaned in for another kiss, dragging his mouth over the soft curve of Jon's lips and down his neck, sucking red marks as he went.

"Do you want me to...? I can suck you off , if you want." Theon suggested, his voice shaking a little.

Jon traced his fingers down Theon's back, pulling him closer so that he could bury his face in his scarred shoulder. "Or," Jon began, slipping his hands lower, dipping a finger between Theron's cheeks to tease his hole. Theon's pulse increased, helpless to whatever Jon had in mind, just wanting to be close to him.

" I could make _you_ come."

Theon's cheeks burned. "Jon, you don't have to-"

Jon ignored him, sliding to his knees before him.

The King in the North, trueborn son of Rheagar Targaryen and hero of Westeros, kneeling before Theon Turncloak. Kneeling before _him_ , as if he wasn't ruined beyond repair, as if he was somehow deserving of Jon's love and forgiveness.

"I want to." Jon admitted with a warm smile, eyes glimmering like two black diamonds in the sun.

He reached to pull Theon's breeches down his legs, leaning forward to nibble along his hipbone, making his way down. With Jon still mostly dressed, Theon felt bare and a little vulnerable;he was exposed and unprotected, and Jon could do with him anything he liked. But he wouldn't, Theon knew, because Jon was Jon, kind and fair and so very caring. Nothing like Ramsay, not one bit. Jon would never hurt him.

He skimmed his hands down Theon's hips, gentle fingertips sparkling shivers everywhere they touched, raining kisses down his stomach, trailing his tongue all the way from the flayed skin below his hips, licking inwards, bit by bit, until his mouth found the uneven folds of flushed skin where his cock used to be. Theon gasped, finally rolling his hips to slowly press back against Jon's lips.

"Jon-" He whimpered, meeting Jon's eyes, impossibly dark. 

It wasn't like before, didn't send rushes of blinding pleasure through his veins, didn't cause him to go mad with desire, but the touch still felt good.

The first time Jon had wanted to try this, Theon had edged away, scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall, panic gripping hold of his body and mind. The time after that had been better, and the next, and the three or four times after that, and now...

He still couldn't look at it, could barely bring himself to touch it in truth. It was disgusting, ugly and misshapen, and a constant reminder of things that he desperately wanted to forget, of blood and tears and unbearable pain. But Jon acted like it was a thing to be treasured, kissed his scars as if they were beautiful. And sometimes it still unnerved him so much that it brought tears to his eyes.

Jon drew back to open the lid of the jar with lamp oil.

Theon watched the slick liquid trickle down his fingers. A wet hand traced over his nipple and Theon squeezed his eyes shut, chest heaving and heart racing. Then his hands gripped his hips, his back, and his ass to pull him closer. Theon let out a groan, biting his lip. Jon poured some oil over his hole, making him slippery and ready before slowly pushing a finger inside, and Theon moaned and bucked against it, barely noticing the tears that had started to leak from his eyes.

"Please." He begged, his knees pushing into the bed to lift his hips up, chasing the feeling of being filled, asking for a second finger.

Jon gave it to him.

Goosebumps pricked out over his skin and he arched his back and trembled. He rocked back against Jon's fingers, harder and harder until he was panting. His muscles tensed and he moaned when he felt yet another finger rubbing circles around his hole, Jon's thumb digging into the flesh of his cheek to pull him open.

"Ah-" Theon moaned when Jon picked up his pace, dipping his fingers in and out against the spot that made him squirm, stretching him open. Pleasure blurred his vision. Pleasure he thought he would never feel again. 

"Does it...," Jon breathed against his ear. "Does it feel good?"

"Y-yes."

It felt more than good, it felt _right_ , like he had finally found home, here, in Jon's arms, in the aftermath of destruction.

Jon's face furrowed in concentration. He gripped Theon at his hip and bent his head down to press their foreheads together and kiss and breathe Theon's air, his fingers snaking up the back of his head to hold him there. Theon's tongue in his mouth made him find his rhythm again and with every thrust came a mantra of _yours_. The kiss made Theon want to open himself more, open his heart where his broken soul lay, open his mind and give all his secrets away, open his mouth to taste everything that Jon was.

Too hard, too good. Just a while longer, just another minute before he was going to have to tell Jon to slow down. 

"Jon I-" Theon cried against his mouth, sweat dripping from his brow. "I'm going to, ah-"

Theon jerked as he came, fucking into Jon's hand, bucking off the bed. His heart pumped wildly in his chest and his stomach tightened and tensed in pleasure. They shifted and slumped, the pelts and pillows more or less in place behind them. Theon let Jon drape himself like a quilt on top of him, his hair damp and skin glowing. He wrapped his arms around Jon's middle and pulled him closer, hands trailing gentle circles on his back.

"Gods, Theon, you're trembling." Jon whispered, smiling.

Theon swallowed, still a little dizzy from his climax."Do you want me to...?"

"Later." Jon said, his body reassuringly heavy on top of his. 

Theon shifted so that he lay with his back pressed against Jon's chest, his arms holding Theon close and face nuzzling his neck and shoulder. 

Theon's mind drifted to a distant memory, to a sullen little boy who Theon had mocked and teased whenever he felt like it. It was perhaps five years ago now, maybe less, but it felt like a lifetime. Back then, Theon had treated him badly, acted like Jon was somehow beneath him, pretended that he only fucked him for pleasure. It wasn't true, but Theon had been far too proud and scared to admit that it was more than that. 

But now... well, he supposed he didn't care about pride as much as he used to. Besides, Jon probably knew anyway. 

"I love you." Theon whispered. 

Jon kissed his neck and nuzzled the curls beneath his ear. "I love you too." He mumbled, and Theon thought that _this, this is what I survived for._


End file.
